


Dissension & Devotion

by Kabby_Kru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Boss/Employee Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feminist Themes, Lord Marcus Kane, Mutual Pining, Octavia Kane, Porn With Plot, References to Jane Austen, Rumors, Secret Relationship, Shameless Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Victorian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27192175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabby_Kru/pseuds/Kabby_Kru
Summary: When widower Lord Marcus Kane’s ailing daughter’s condition continues to deteriorate, the lord seeks aid from one Dr. Griffin out of desperation. To his surprise, the doctor he hires is actually a woman. The lord and doctor continuously clash over techniques on how to help Octavia recover.Will Lord Kane and Dr. Griffin be able to put aside their differences for six-year-old Octavia, or will their constant clashing drive the doctor to leave Polis Park? And how will the fact that Dr. Griffin is actually a beautiful, single woman affect their dynamic?
Relationships: Abby Griffin & Marcus Kane, Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Octavia Blake & Abby Griffin, Octavia Blake & Marcus Kane
Comments: 80
Kudos: 81





	1. I

“Sir, the doctor has arrived.”

Lord Marcus Kane set aside his bifocals and arose with haste, his heart clamoring with anticipation inside his chest cavity. “Splendid,” he said. “Thank you, Russell.”

Downstairs stood a short statured woman dressed like she had just traveled a long journey. Luggage piled at her feet. Lord Kane cleared his throat and smiled. “My apologies, ma’am, but I was expecting a doctor.”

“I _am_ the doctor,” she replied self-assuredly, straightening her bonnet.

His eyes roamed her small figure as he scrutinized her with pursed lips. “With all due respect, madam, I was under the impression that my daughter’s doctor would be a man.”

“You were sorely mistaken, good sir.”

He raised a brow. “The advertisement in the herald had you listed under the name _Adam_ Griffin,” he said with suspicion. He scratched his bare chin in thought.

She smiled cloyingly up at him. “It must have been a misprint,” she said.

He tutted. “I see…”

“Although the name was falsely written, I assure you my qualifications remain accurate,” she said, her chin pointed high.

Lord Kane’s lips curled slightly in amusement. He was rather impressed with her tenacity. “We shall see about that… I am Marcus Kane, by the way. And to whom do I owe the pleasure, ma’am? Obviously you are no Adam.”

“I am Doctor Abigail Griffin, sir. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord,” she said, straining a smile.

It was obvious they had gotten off on the wrong footing and Ms. Abigail likely found him to be your typical narrow-minded fellow who thought of women as a lesser species whilst he was nothing of the sort. The doctor’s sex was nothing of his business or interest. Actually, he had dreams for his own daughter that she would someday recover and become a doctor if she wished.

The nurse who had once lived on the estate had done all that she knew to do so he hired another, then another. Nurse after nurse, their prescription was all the same: rest. Octavia would sleep and she would wake, growing weaker by the passing days. As his daughter’s condition worsened, he grew desperate. He did not consider himself a religious man, actually he was anything but, however, he found himself falling to his knees and crying out to the ceiling to whomever would perchance listen to his pleas to spare his daughter. It would be the one and only time he ever prayed.

Despite his wealthy status and his tireless efforts of writing letters to the best doctors in Edenshire, Stratford-Upon-Arkadia, Upton Jaha, and beyond, he found difficulty in discovering a doctor available for routine care for his beloved daughter. The epidemics that plagued southeast England (smallpox, yellow fever) occupied the majority of the doctors’ time.

One evening following tea time, his deep brown eyes had scanned the Edenshire Herald just like they did every evening for the past decade. (Marcus Kane was a man of routine.) As if fate intervened in his deepest hour of need, he had stumbled upon a notice in the bottom right-hand corner of the newspaper of one self-proclaimed highly qualified Doctor Adam Griffin seeking employment, preferably as a live-in doctor. Lord Kane had decided to write a letter straightaway and soon began a correspondence between the doctor who agreed to pack his belongings and arrange a carriage to bring him to the lord’s estate of Polis Park. 

Of course, he was now no longer under the misconception that Octavia’s doctor was male, but that the person he had been exchanging letters with was one Abigail Griffin. A sly one, she was, but she was not backing down to tell him the true reasoning behind the pseudonym. Although it did not take one of great sagacity to conclude it was because of the gender inequality that existed in late 19th century England. If her qualifications proved to be valid, it did not matter to him whether she wore a petticoat or trousers. In all truth, he could not blame her for her hesitation to present her true self. He considered himself to be of the progressive lot but even so, if he was not such a man, he would still put his politics aside if it meant saving his daughter’s life. And that was what Doctor Abigail Griffin was supposedly going to do: save his daughter’s life. He hoped.

~~~

Abigail, known as Abby to those dear to her, was not a dishonest woman, but from an early age her father taught her that it was a cruel world and one needed to do what was necessary for means of survival – even if it meant telling a little white lie. After all, what was the harm in it? It is not uncommon knowledge that one who does what it takes to survive will deserve to survive after the effort they put forth, and survival was all that Abigail Griffin had known since she had lost those dearest to her.

She followed the butler called Russell upstairs to her quarters as the footman Miles carried her luggage up the elegantly spiraled staircase. (At first Abby thought she misunderstood, but she truly was given a quarter of the upstairs – practically her own flat.) The walk took her doubly the time it should have as her eyes kept getting caught on glimmering golden trinkets and marble statues. Abby could not help but gasp in adoration. Russell stood idly by, waiting patiently as Abby gathered herself enough to press on. Abby’s family was well-off but far not necessarily wealthy – especially far from this sort of wealth. She entered her chambers and spun around with childlike glee.

“I shall escort you to Lady Octavia’s room now,” said Russell, placing Abby’s bags at the foot of her bed. A grand-sized bed it was.

“This is quite the exquisite room,” Abby said, ignoring Russell’s request.

“Indeed. It was once the master’s.”

“Why does he not stay here now? Dear heavens, I have not displaced him, have I?”

“No, madam. It is really not for me to say. Come along now, if you please.”

Abby’s face contorted as she observed Russell’s back while he led her down the hallway. It was quite the magnificent hallway. Perhaps the most magnificent of all hallways. A colossal painting that looked it could be the likes of Michelangelo hung on the wall just opposite of the stairs. For just a moment, Abby paused to take in the exquisite work until the clearing of Russell’s throat jolted her from her astonishment and she joined him just outside of Lady Octavia’s chambers.

She entered the room to find an ashen child, white as her sheets that laid messily underneath her bare and crooked legs. She sat haggardly upright in her bed. The circles under her eyes were as dark as her irises. Her young face that should have been round and soft instead was haunted by sickly sharp angles. Abby perched on the edge of the bed and spoke softly to the child.

“And who do we have here?” she asked.

“Octavia,” the child weakly replied.

“Lovely to meet you, Octavia. Can you tell me how old you are?”

“I’m six,” she said meekly.

The child held up six weary fingers in front of Abby.

“That’s wonderful. You can call me Abby. I’ll be your doctor.”

“A doctor? But you’re a lady.” There was genuine confusion in the child’s voice.

There was laughter which was hastily covered by a cough and Abby turned her head in search of the noise behind her.

“I do apologize on behalf of my child. She is being rather uncouth,” said Lord Kane.

“Like father like daughter,” Abby muttered before directing her attention back to Lady Octavia. “Women can be doctors, too, now. I promise I will take very good care of you. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Good. I will leave you to rest for now,” Abby said cordially.

She stood to leave and invited herself out of Lady Octavia’s chamber, pointedly ignoring Lord Kane’s cloying polite smile as she grazed past his body in the corridor.

“Ma’am,” he called after her.

“Lord Kane,” she merely said without even turning around, nearing her quarters with every step.

“I shall like to have a word.”

Stopping in her tracks, she turned then, watching as he leisurely inched his way closer to her. “Perhaps the day you learn to address me like a professional then will I give you the time of day.”

Lord Kane scrunched his face and chuckled. “What so ever do you mean?”

“I am no _ma’am_. I am a doctor and I expect you to address me as such, just as you did in your letters to me – or rather, to Adam.”

Lord Kane’s mouth gaped and a fertile silence of awareness flooded the gargantuan corridor. He bowed his head. “Of course. How silly of me. I do apologize, _doctor_ ,” he said with emphasis. “If I may have a word?” He gestured towards a room off to the side and she followed him. He closed the door behind them as they entered what looked to Abby like his study.

“So?” Lord Kane asked, wringing his hands.

“So?”

“ _So_ , what is the matter with my daughter?” His dark eyes scanned her face seemingly searching for any clues to tell him the gravity of the situation.

Abby stifled a laugh. “Lord Kane, I simply cannot diagnose your child after one brief encounter. She is visibly ill. Extremely. Based on physical observance alone, her contorted legs are especially cause for concern.”

“Yes,” he said, sadly.

“However, I would like to build a rapport with her before I start prodding her with examination tools.”

“A _rapport_? With all due respect, ma’am — pardon… With all due respect, _doctor_ , my daughter is extremely ill, you just said yourself. She requires treatment not friendship,” he said with a scoff.

“For how long has she been sick?”

Lord Kane sucked in air between his teeth. “Close to half a year now, I suppose.”

“Then a few days will not make a difference.”

Lord Kane opened his mouth to protest.

“Who is the doctor here, Lord Kane?” Abby asked with an icy stare.

Her response garnered an exasperated sigh from the master but he simply bit his lip and nodded his head as he escorted her back into the hall.

That man… He infuriated her to her very core! So haughty and pompous – she could not stand the likes of him already.

Chewing at her lip in frustration, she arrived back into her quarters to discover that all of her luggage had been properly unpacked and put away. Living at Polis Park was like a storybook tale with fairies who did everything for you whilst you moseyed about with not a care. However, she did care. She cared to find a cure for the young girl. No child should be bedridden and she was determined to successfully treat Lady Octavia.

Following a short rest, as she felt weary from her travels (a two-hour train ride and then a half-hour carriage ride), Abby was given a complete tour of Polis Park. As expected, the rest of the house was adorned with expensive paintings, lavish furniture, and exorbitant statues.

Once the tour was over, she was introduced to some of the help of the estate. She spoke briefly to the laundrymaid called Lorelei who was occupied scrubbing linens on a washboard. The housekeeper, Mrs. Rebecca, was too flustered to speak more than three words to Abby as she fluttered about like a busy bee; however, the housemaid and governess were especially friendly and took time to ask Abby about herself over a spot of tea in the second parlor.

“Where do you stay?” Abby asked Calliope, the governess, after describing to them her living quarters, which they of course were already familiar with.

“A small cottage on the estate. It is merely a short walk from here.”

“And the others?”

“Same as I. They live scattered about the property in various cottages.”

“Pray tell, why must _I_ stay under the same roof as such an unbearable and vain man?” Abby was pouting, though she did not care. “It is not fair!”

“Lord Kane may be brooding and difficult, at times, Doctor, but he treats us all justly. You do not want to hear the horror stories of other servants under the rule of less-than-fair masters, such as the baron Charles Pike.” The governess, Indra, looked upon Abby with widened eyes. Fear fluttered in Abby’s stomach.

“Yes, he even dines with us. Well, he used to. Until Lady Octavia fell ill.”

He dined with the servants? That was practically unheard of in modern times!

“Oh my. How willfully ignorant of me.” A flush crept up on Abby’s face.

“There, there, Doctor. I, more than most, can relate to how difficult Lord Kane can be,” whispered Calliope.

“You ladies can call me Abby,” she said. Her mouth curved up into a smile. “ _Doctor_ is reserved for Lord Kane.”

The trio shared a hushed laugh. Indra glanced at her pendant watch and stood swiftly. “I must go. It is time for Lady Octavia’s spelling lesson.”

As Indra exited the parlor, Abby watched with wide eyes through the opened door to the kitchen as the chef and kitchen maid clamored amongst pots and pans. The chef, called Nygel according to Calliope, and the kitchen maid, called Harper, worked with celerity as they prepared for the day’s meal.

“What is that smell?” Abby asked, making a face.

“Friday is fish day,” stated Calliope.

Abby shook her head in wonder. “How many bodies are within this residence? My family had merely one servant.”

“Hmm,” Calliope began thoughtfully. “You have met Russell, the butler, and Miles, the footman. There is myself – the housemaid, and Lorelei the laundrymaid. Nygel is the chef – do not get in her way, I warn you. Harper is the timid yet diligent kitchen maid. Indra, whom you just met, is the governess. And—”

“NO!” A scream from Lady Octavia startled the pair. “I cannot! It hurts too much! I can’t bear it!” Lady Octavia exclaimed, choking a sob.

Abby arose and turned to see Lady Octavia in the hall, crawling on all fours, pleading with a woman to escort her back to her chambers.

“That is Ms. Charmaine, Lady Octavia’s head nurse,” Calliope murmured.

“You need some fresh air, my lady!”

“No, I mustn’t! The pain is unbearable! Daddy!” The child flipped onto her back. Her small legs were pale and bowed.

“For how long have her legs been like this?” Abby asked, now in the hallway alongside the head nurse.

“Not for very long. A month, perhaps. Half a year ago, the pain and weakness began. It’s steadily worsened since then.” Charmaine’s face fell. She fell to her knees to wipe the hair from Lady Octavia’s sticky tearstained face. She shushed her and kissed her forehead.

“I wish to return to my chambers now,” Lady Octavia whimpered.

“As you wish,” Charmaine said, standing. She turned her attention to Calliope. “Calliope, fetch Miles and have him return Lady Octavia to her chambers this instant.”

Soon, Calliope returned with the footman at her side and Miles lifted Octavia into his arms and carried her up the grand staircase. Abby followed right behind his trails, leaving her tea in the parlor to grow cold. She was far more concerned in examining Lady Octavia.

~~~

“What happened to building a rapport first?” asked Lord Kane in the corridor. He donned a haughty arched eyebrow that stirred a deep resentful anger within Abby. She closed the door behind her which led to Lady Octavia’s chambers and pushed past the lady’s exasperating father.

She tutted at his remark. “Are you here to catechize me on my every move? I feel as though I am under your microscope. Every time I glance up, you’re breathing down my neck!”

Lord Kane peered at her with eyes that fought to turn as dark as night. With his jaw clenched, he replied. “Well, Doctor, forgive my apprehension but if you do recall, you deceived me. My daughter is currently under your care. Surely you can understand my trepidation.”

“Truly, sir, I do understand. I made a mistake and I am sorry I fooled you but I _am_ a skilled doctor. I am a professional! I will not stand around and be chastised by anyone: man, woman, rich, or poor. I shall pack up my belongings and find work elsewhere if you will not respect me.”

“No,” he pleaded, his eyes stricken with fear. “I verily believe you can help my daughter. Please.” Lord Kane opened his mouth to speak once more but fastened it shut.

Abby rubbed her hands together and scrutinized him expectantly. When he did not speak, she chose to do so. “Sir, I was told you once dined with the help, but not anymore. I did think I should ask if we could dine together this evening.”

He stared at her mutely. His dark and curled eyelashes fluttered; a wrinkle formed between his brows at her question. She was on tenterhooks awaiting his response.

“Yes, of course,” he said finally, “I was going to suggest the same.”

~~~

“So tell me, sir, does my womanhood disturb you?”

His brows knitted but behind his chalice he failed to hide the smallest hint of a smirk. If he were honest with himself, he found her frankness to be somewhat endearing. Nevertheless, he shook his head dismissively. “Why must you mention an issue that has been hitherto discussed and laid to rest? Are you not the type, Doctor, to let sleeping dogs lie?”

“Perhaps I do have a tendency to revisit certain controversies.”

She chewed at her lip, humor glinted in her mocha eyes. For the first time since her arrival, he allowed himself to notice her beauty, only briefly, before he pushed away his physical impulses. She was his daughter’s doctor; she wished for him to treat her with respect. Surely ogling at her like a lascivious buffoon was not a sign of professional reverence in any sense of the term.

“To answer your question,” he began, “and to hopefully lay the issue to rest once and for all: no, your womanhood disturbs me not. I am simply relieved to have found a skilled doctor such as yourself, regardless of your sex.” Her silence told him that his answer was satisfactory.

Soon, their main course of fish arrived and the doctor dined on it sumptuously. Indeed, she had worked up quite the appetite, that much was apparent to him. Silence was bestowed on them the rest of the meal until Mrs. Rebecca gathered their sullied plates and Lord Kane offered her a short word of thanks.

“Shall you take a walk with me? I often enjoy some fresh air after I have had a large meal.”

“That sounds quite lovely,” the doctor responded, accepting his proffered hand as she stood.

~~~

The evening sky provided them just enough light as they strolled the gardens of Polis Park. The burnt orange slowly faded away above their heads as the heavens fought to turn obsidian. Abby found herself walking awkwardly close beside Lord Kane lest a wild beast were to appear out of the shrubbery and begin to gnaw at her shins. She was never a skittish woman until it came to wildlife. Suddenly, a mere rustle in the bush startled her so greatly, the color drained from her face and she grabbed Lord Kane’s arm as a biting gasp escaped her. She broke away from him immediately, her pale face growing crimson. In the midst of all of the commotion, it had not instantly dawned on her that the sounds Lord Kane was making – the low, guttural noise – was, of all things, laughter. Her chagrin quickly transformed into an unspeakable and inexplicable rage. She could not determine what about the man enraged her so. Perhaps it was his vainglory or imperiousness or the way he always stood with his aquiline nose pointed towards the azure celestial sphere. There had never been another human being alive that had the ability to enrage Abby with such ease and she had only known him for a mere twelve hours. If she had allowed herself time to ponder on the thought, she would possibly admit that it was an impressive feat. She glared at him with disdain and his laughter died off instantaneously. She grunted and gathered her skirt in her hands and plodded past him violently, her anger blinding herself from the fear of the rustling shrubbery.

“Doctor,” he called out, his feet already at her heels.

Abby groaned. “Why must you be so constantly irksome? Can we not walk in comfortable silence?”

“I am simply trying to get to know my daughter’s doctor,” he replied, innocently enough. Her own wall of Jericho immediately began to crumble as she remembered the sickly little girl with the translucent eyelids and bent legs.

She sighed a sigh of surrender. “What would you like to know?”

“How long have you been a physician? What inspired you?”

Abby drew a long breath before she began, directing her eyes upward to the darkening sky as the memories overtook her.

“I lost my daughter, Clarke, to diphtheria when she was age four. Two years later, my husband Jake succumbed to scarlet fever. We had a happy little home together, just the three of us, in the outskirts of Stratford-Upon-Arkadia, but after losing them both, I moved back in with my parents in Edenshire. It was then I had to either choose a career path or choose to marry. Cooking and cleaning were never my strong suits and it pained me too harshly to care for someone else’s child so soon after losing my own. I had heard of women going to medical school. As time went on, I began to consider it for myself. It may sound strange but I always had a fascination with diseases. I had read a dozen books on the black plague by the time I was thirteen. My mother and father thought it was ridiculous and they would shut me down whenever I tried to mention it. ‘Just find a husband,’ my father would say. ‘Life will be much easier for you that way,’ my mother would add. But I thought back to all of the nights when I read my daughter to sleep and as I kissed her smooth little forehead I’d say ‘You can be anything you dream, my sweet one.’

“After months of deliberation, I finally made the decision to go to medical school. It was a struggle to even get accepted but one school in particular was so impressed with my knowledge and abilities that they finally accepted me. Not without a fight, mind you, but nevertheless, I persisted and got in. I was their first female pupil. The male pupils had all voted unanimously to let me in. Despite earning my degree after tireless efforts, my parents were still unconvinced. As it turns out, simply because one has a degree does not make it so easy to just find a job. Not with my sex, at least. But then I arrived here, at Polis Park. Undoubtedly, I am forever in your favor.”

Lord Kane squinted, a corner of his mouth turning upward only slightly. “Well, it isn’t like you got the job in the most honest way…”

The hope inside her deflated. “One could say I was growing desperate.”

“ _But_ it does sound like I made the right decision.”

She brightened. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t make me regret my act of kindness, Doctor.”

And just like that, the familiar attitude of Lord Kane was back. She inwardly rolled her eyes. “Of course, Lord Kane.”

“Forgive me, Doctor, but surely remarrying would have been a much easier path to take. Have you no plans to remarry in the future?”

“I am married to my occupation.”

“That is a novel excuse,” he chuckled.

“It is not an excuse, Lord Kane. I vowed to help the sick. I had lived enough of my life watching sick people die without having any ability to do something about it. Now I can finally help them recover.”

“I admire you for that. Truly.”

Lord Kane graciously escorted Abby back inside. They stood at the base of the staircase.

“I did appreciate the company,” he said flatly.

“Likewise,” she replied with partial honesty.

“If you will excuse me, I am bedward. I have a long day ahead. I’ll see you in the morrow… _Doctor_.” His pompous smirk hinted that he continued to find her insistence to be referred to as “Doctor” a farcical matter. The nerve of that man!

“God willing,” she said as she strained a smile, determined to end the evening with her master on a friendly note.

“God,” Lord Kane said followed by a scornful scoff, already turning on his heels to leave.

“Do you not believe in God, my lord?” Abby inquired.

Lord Kane stopped in his tracks and turned to face her once more. He chewed at his lip in thought and then said, “Every day I wake up and kiss my ailing daughter good morning and I question how could a benevolent, loving god allow an innocent child to suffer as she. So to answer your question, Doctor, _no_ , I do not believe in God.”


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Abigail works to strengthen her relationship with Lady Octavia whilst Lord Kane is a never-ending thorn in her side. Yet, like an addiction, she continues to seek out the lord's company, as if craving yet another fight. Is it the rushing thrill she gets as their nostrils flare and they spew venom back and forth? Or is it simply an excuse to see him again?
> 
> Meanwhile, Lord Kane's feelings remain... complicated... all thanks to his natural urges. Or is it something more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much thanks to my friends who are helping me with ideas and beta reading this story!!

The rest of the week was spent by Abby tending to Lady Octavia whilst she built a rapport with her. The child had begun to refuse leaving the comforts of her bed and, in turn, developed bed sores to which Abby applied salves and dressings every couple hours. She was a fussy patient but Abby was determined and did not shy away from redirecting Lady Octavia’s behavior if she saw fit.

Meanwhile, Lord Kane was a persistent thorn in her side, hovering over her at every given chance while she observed his daughter. She poked, she prodded, and she jotted down a plethora of notes as he breathed down her neck. There was no telling how much ink Abby had went through that first week alone as she scrawled note after note detailing every symptom of the girl’s.

A fortnight of Lord Kane’s obsessive, compulsive behavior to control and question her every movement had proven to be Abby’s breaking point. A mere fourteen days she lasted before she came unraveled like a mad woman in the parlor surrounded by all of the help.

Leading up to the event, moments prior, Abby had grown impatient with Lady Octavia and impetuously insisted the child join her for a walk outside.

“No!” Lady Octavia had screamed.

“Russell will carry you.”

“I refuse!”

With a huff, Abby had stripped the blankets from Lady Octavia’s bed, exposing the child’s crooked legs that poked out from the bottom of her off-white nightgown. With Russell being nowhere in sight, Abby had took it upon herself to lift the six-year-old and commence to carry her down the stairs, all the while Lady Octavia bellowed one ear-piercing shriek after the other that were punctuated with wild gesticulations. The child may be crippled but her tenacity was unmatched. By the time Abby had reached the base of the stairs, blanched and gasping for air, the entire household had arrived to see what was causing such a clatter, including Lord Kane himself who was absolutely fuming.

“What is the meaning of this?” he barked, removing his daughter from Abby’s shaky grasp.

“We were going for a walk.”

Lord Kane’s nostrils flared as he spoke through gritted teeth. “It is apparent she does not want to go for a walk, Doctor,” he spat. “Have you not yet learned how to discern when your patient is in distress?”

“But—”

“The outdoors will not cure my daughter!” he roared.

“But I verily believe it will,” she replied with conviction.

Silence overtook the room until Lord Kane broke the calm. He snickered derisively, his nose towards the ceiling as he gawked at her with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. With a shake of his head he said to her, “You are out of your mind.”

Abby saw scarlet, her heart clamoring in her chest as the rage quickly bubbled within herself. “I am a doctor! I am a woman of science! If you refuse to surrender control to a woman and lose your daughter due to your antiquated ways then so be it!”

Lord Kane was left speechless. He was not an easy man to read. Abby could not tell if he was hurt, stunned, or simply insulted. Very rarely was the man left speechless; he often always had a cunning retort to shoot back at her. This time was different, however. She had cut deeper than she perhaps intended but she was desperate for him to _hear_ her. Abby had heard of it before, she was sure of it. If Octavia had what Abby suspected, the outdoors would truly just might be her cure. Partially. The thought had first occurred to her like a tickle in one’s lung and the more time Abby spent examining the child, the more sure she became. Now Abby only needed the proof. Lord Kane was a man who enjoyed his concrete truths and she was going to give him that. She would see to it. For the time being, she surmised it would be best to spend the evening regaining Lady Octavia’s trust. Her eyes fell to the little girl, now in the footman’s arms as he carried her small frame up the stairs.

Abby followed right on Miles’s heels and was at Lady Octavia’s bedside straightaway. The child’s eyes were as pink as her flushed cheeks from her outburst and she was still sniffling. She clutched to her dolly as Abby pulled up a chair beside her bed. Octavia dramatically covered her ears as the scraping of the chair permeated her chambers. Abby leaned in closely and smiled at the child who stared at her with a crumpled face. The young girl absentmindedly toyed with the lavender ribbon hanging from the torso of her china doll’s dress.

Abby’s eyes fell to the porcelain doll as a wave of reminiscence washed over her. She sighed wistfully and smiled, yearning for the simple times of sitting beside the fireplace on cold winter nights, her dolls forming a circle around her as she offered them a spot of tea from her play tea set. She would sing as she brought her tiny hand and an even smaller cup up to each of their mouths: _Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle one, and let’s drink tea._

“What’s your dolly’s name?” Abby asked, her voice as soft as the smile on her face.

“Ada,” replied Octavia shyly. A smile crept up on her face. “I’m her mummy,” she said, her eyes brightening with pride.

Abby’s heart swelled. “I am sure you are a marvelous mummy to young Ada.”

“Yes. I never had a mummy,” she said sadly. “Well, I did but… I can’t remember her.”

“I am sorry, my lady. That cannot be very easy for you.”

“Thank you,” the child said, her eyes scanning the room. “I have other dollies, as well,” she said suddenly, her face illuminating once more.

“Oh,” Abby said with intrigue.

“Yes.” She began to name them, counting off on her scrawny, stubby fingers. “Evie, Elise, Helena, and… Irene. You musn’t tell the others but… Ada is my favorite.” She brought a finger to her lips and shushed Abby to secrecy.

“What do you and your dollies enjoy doing together?”

“Oh. Well, our most favorite thing to do is have tea parties.”

“Tea parties?”

“Yes!”

“Why, I used to have tea parties with my dollies, as well,” Abby said.

“Would you join us sometime?” Octavia asked, hope filling her voice as her dark eyes pleaded Abby to say yes. How could she say no?

“Of course, sweet one… I- I am sorry for earlier. But you must understand that as your doctor, I know what is best for you. Though it will not be easy, you must be a big girl and be brave for me if you wish to get better. Do you want to get better?”

Octavia cogitated momentarily as she chewed at her chapped bottom lip with her stray incisor tooth. “I suppose,” she said with a sigh.

~~~

Upon completing her visit with Lady Octavia, Abby was greeted by Calliope who pulled her aside to the parlor for a spot of tea. Not long after meeting Calliope, Abby had deduced that she was one who was awfully fond of male company. She scantly spoke of anything else. Only minutes into their gathering and Calliope had begun asking Abby questions about her personal life.

“Pray tell, is there a special gentleman in your life, Abby?” Calliope inquired as she pushed back a stray, coal-black hair behind her ear.

Abby chuckled suddenly, staggered by the question. She stammered. “Oh, heavens no. I- I’m a widow.”

Calliope’s eyes fell. She donned the same expression and whispered the same pitiful words as everyone else whenever Abby would share her traumatic story. “My condolences,” Calliope said finally.

“It was quite some time ago.”

“Well,” Calliope began, brightening slightly, “if you find yourself feeling lonesome, there are plenty of eligible bachelors on the estate. If you fancy none of them, I have a cousin who many folk refer to as handsome – though I find him to have such odd shaped lips.”

Abby tittered from behind her teacup. “What a peculiar observation,” she said.

Calliope shrugged. “As far as I know, Lord Kane is available, also. He rarely leaves the estate save for the occasional hunting trip. But it appears that you two cannot share four words with one another before you are fussing,” she said, stating the obvious. Perhaps that was the most obvious observation of the entire century.

~~~

At dinner, Abby sat silently between Charmaine and Indra, only speaking whenever she was addressed. For some reason, despite herself, her eyes kept wandering the room, scanning for any sight of Lord Kane to finally join them. He had dined with her privately on her first day at Polis Park but never again since. She could not bear to look at the man yet she still found herself drawing her attention away from the roasted turkey on her plate and the chattering company surrounding her to search for the one man in the world that drove her absolutely mad. Strangely, she felt an unexpected pang of disappointment when he never appeared.

Following the conclusion of dinner, Abby dispersed from the lingering crowd of help to get some fresh air in the courtyard. Unsure what had gotten into her, she found herself walking the grounds, eyes patrolling until they found him.

He hugged the wool coat against his frame as he meandered about the sublime gardens, the chill of the breeze likely biting his bare bits of skin just as it did hers. “I thought I would find you here,” she said from behind him, obviously startling him as he jolted at the sound of her voice. He turned to face her, then quickly back again, seemingly embarrassed by the scare. He continued walking.

“Are you tracking my whereabouts, Doctor?”

She inwardly rolled her eyes but caught herself smiling. “May I join you?” she asked. When he did not reply, she took his silence for agreeance and joined him at his side.

They walked for some distance when he finally replied, looking not at her but ahead. “I never said yes.”

“But you never said no,” she replied quickly. That made his dark eyes crinkle slightly, a loose smirk formed around his usually tight lips.

“How do you fare?” he asked flatly, his smirk dissipating as quickly as it formed.

“Fine, thank you. I am getting acquainted with everyone and learning my way around the estate more and more each day. And you?”

“I am well, thank you,” he said. “I feel as though we need to discuss earlier. Without the shouting.” They continued to walk at a leisurely pace, facing straight ahead as they watched the orange evening sun begin to sink.

“I know you do not agree with my methods, Lord Kane—”

“Not in the slightest.”

“—But do you trust me?”

Lord Kane chewed at his lip. “Yes,” he said, sounding as though it pained him to say it.

“Then act like it.”

“She was so upset,” he choked, his eyes nearly filling with tears. “Octavia has always had a flair for the dramatic but, God, when I found her like that, I just became _enraged_.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “I do not feel as though my ways are antiquated. I am purely a concerned father. I am sorry but I just cannot fathom how the outdoors will help a child in her condition.”

“I can find you the proof,” she said quickly. “I just need time.”

“Time? _Time_? Doctor, how much time does she even have?”

“Enough.”

Lord Kane scoffed and ran a hand over his face.

“We mustn’t despair. Hope is everything,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. His eyes fell to her hand and she dropped it back to her side instantaneously, her cheeks burning.

Lord Kane escorted her to her room after their walk. Following their conversation about Octavia, they walked mostly in uncomfortable silence. Abby continued to mull over the embarrassing placement of her hand. Why did she touch him? The look on his face – so utterly stunned – told her he obviously did not wish to be touched, especially by her. She felt as though she had crossed some invisible line and she merely hoped he would be able to forget about it by the morrow.

Once they reached the crest of the grand staircase, Lord Kane nodded and bid her goodnight. As he turned to walk away, she called out for him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Yes?” he asked, turning back to face her once more.

“Is it true that I sleep in your former bedchamber?” He remained silent at her question, so she continued. “Why do you no longer rest there?”

“I would rather not talk about it,” he said quietly, his eyes falling to the floor.

“Sir, I am merely inquiring. I have not displaced you have I?”

His stony expression crumbled and anger bubbled out like molten lava from a volcano. “I said I do not wish to speak of it!” he exclaimed. He turned on his heels and rushed down the stairs, leaving Abby standing in shock, still regarding the space where he stood moments prior.

~~~

A quick flicker of a castle, then green rolling hills as far as the eye could see, and last the coastal waters, waves angry, told him he was in the Isles of Scotland. They had traveled there soon after they were wed. He first caught a glimpse of her obsidian hair, long and wavy. It tickled his nose. She only wore it down when they were alone in their chambers. He heard laughter – her characteristic giggle that was muffled by the crashing waves but still within earshot. He caught a quick glimpse of her dress, it blew about freely in the Scottish winds. She finally turned to him, her face young and beautiful – his dear Aurora! How he longed for her so. He became overwhelmed with a sense of fondness and longing for his dearly departed. His body ached for her.

Without warning, her face dissipated, and suddenly standing before him was not his late wife, but Doctor Abigail Griffin. Surprising himself, the same feelings of fondness and longing remained. The doctor smiled largely at him as he pulled her close…

… And then he woke with a start, his heart racing as he collected his thoughts and whereabouts. It was a dream. He glanced down at the unfortunate bulge of his drawers, shame creeping up on him. What a disgraceful dream! His mind betrayed his poor, dead spouse – with their daughter’s doctor nonetheless. It was simply a silly dream, he told himself.

He tossed and turned the rest of the night, sleeping fitfully when his eyes did finally close, although that only occurred for minutes at a time before he would wake again. He feared that if he allowed sleep to take him fully, he would dream of her again. The guilt he felt for Aurora penetrated his soul, meanwhile the captivating smile of the doctor continued to haunt his mind the remainder of the night. He needed to get away. He had to escape her company before he became completely undone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obviously not a very slow burn this one. :-) kudos and comments make my day! thank you in advance <3


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Kane seeks an escape, leaving Doctor Abigail perplexed.

He was a recluse – holed up in his chamber the following day. An escape was necessary so he made arrangements for the following day. Before dawn, his bags were packed. By sunrise, the stagecoach had arrived to whisk him away. He stepped into his daughter’s chamber room to find Ms. Calliope, Ms. Diyoza, Ms. Indra, Mrs. Rebecca, and the woman he could not bare to glance at for more than a fleeting moment – Dr. Abigail.

“I’m awfully sorry to interrupt your studies but I’m going away—”

“No!” Octavia shouted.

“Only for a short time, my love,” Lord Kane added softly as he kneeled down at her bedside. She dramatically flung her book to the side and it clattered to the floor, nearly hitting Ms. Indra in the process. She hooked her arms tightly around his neck. He chuckled and rubbed her back as he struggled to breathe. She certainly had not lost her strength _everywhere_.

His daughter had always had a flair for the dramatic. She had cried constantly for months after she was born. She came into this world wailing, only to be silenced by her lips meeting her mother’s bosom, quietly suckling. For four lunar moons she would sob and wail all throughout the day and far into the night. It had took them by surprise. Bellamy had been an easy child, at least before his mother passed. The two children were as dissimilar as night and day (aside from their stubbornness). She was far past infancy yet her wild temper tantrums and mood swings remained. After six years, Lord Kane had grown accustomed to it. It was just who she was.

He kissed Octavia’s forehead and told her he would be back as fast as she could say “chuckaboo” which caused the young girl to giggle.

“Sinclair, my estate steward, is on his way,” he said, now addressing the ladies in the room. His eyes darted between each familiar face as he spoke; however, he avoided the doctor. “He will handle all my legal and property matters while I am away, as per usual.” He directed his attention to his daughter once more. “I will be back soon,” he said before he turned to leave.

~~~

As Diyoza loaded Octavia into her wheelchair and wheeled her away for a bath, Abby caught Calliope’s gaze once Lord Kane had exited his daughter’s chamber room and was safely out of earshot.

“That was quite odd,” Abby remarked, twisting her face into a perplexed look.

“ _He_ is quite odd,” Calliope muttered.

“Did you see that? He could barely stand to look at me!”

“It is not surprising considering how the two of you squabble,” said Indra.

“Just as I feel as though we are making progress in our working relations, it is as if we lose all of that progress and more!” Abby sighed and slumped down into her chair. She closed the notebook that laid open on her lap. She had filled nearly every page with diagrams, notes, and shorthand paragraphs regarding Octavia’s health, progress, and possible diagnoses. “Where was he off to in such a tizzy?” Abby asked.

“I heard him tell Russell to prepare his firearm for his journey. One can only assume he was going hunting,” Mrs. Rebecca said as she put away Octavia’s remaining garments.

“That would make sense,” said Indra. “They normally go this time of year.”

“Yes. I had heard they invited him but initially he declined. I suppose he changed his mind,” added Mrs. Rebecca.

“Who is this ‘they’ that you speak of?” Abby asked, entirely confused.

“Oh, let’s see… There is Duke Cage Wallace, Viscount Thelonious Jaha, and, hmm… oh! Lord Carl Emerson. Baron Charles Pike joined them once upon a time but thank the heavens they have parted ways with him.” Abby should have known that Calliope of all people would be able to quickly inform her on the comings and goings of everyone on the estate and beyond.

“They certainly love to hunt,” Indra said.

“I personally _loathe_ the sport but I had seen Lord Kane handle a firearm before and he looked rather handsome doing it,” said Calliope. Abby’s face warmed at those words.

“You should not speak of your superior in such a way,” muttered Indra.

Calliope smiled and rolled her eyes. “Oh, pish posh, Indra, do not be a spoilsport.”

~~~

After Octavia’s bath and morning studies with Ms. Indra, Abby proceeded with her usual consultation with Octavia – she checked in on her at dawn, noonday, and dusk. When she was not having a nutrition break, she was often found in a quiet corner scrawling down note after note as she nearly tormented her own brain doing her best to recollect her lessons from medical school. She was desperately in need of a trip to the library.

Leaving her chamber for dinner, she noted a noise coming from inside a meager linen closet that abided between her chamber and the lavatory. Much to her surprise, Abby pushed open the door to find Calliope and Lord Kane’s estate steward Jacapo Sinclair entangled in a lover’s embrace. A gasp escaped from all parties and Abby promptly slammed the door shut, her face burning with chagrin.

Calliope caught up with her just outside the dining room, grabbed her by her wrist.

“Abby,” Calliope began softly, a gentle smile splitting her features, “what you saw in there… it’s usual for this place, and places like it. It is not talked about but it is… hidden in plain sight, so to speak. I hope this does not change your opinion towards me.”

“Not at all,” Abby said, quickly reassuring her. “It is simply none of my business. You should be able to see who you like.”

“And I say the same to you _– whomever_ you want,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a glimmer in her eyes. 

~~~

With every step, the crisp of the ground crumbled underneath the soles of his boots. He adjusted his tweed cap and pulled it down tightly around his head as the fierce winds hissed against his skin. He clutched his shotgun and carried on, following behind the Duke and Viscount.

The men mounted their steeds – Lord Kane’s a chestnut brown stallion called Helios – and attached lanterns to the horses’ saddles. The Duke of Doah, Cage Wallace, took the lead, as it was his property, whilst the Viscount Jaha, Lord Kane, and Lord Emerson followed suit. The hounds trailed obediently beside them as they made their way to the hunting grounds. Excluding the hounds’ occasional barks and howls, the trip was quiet. Lord Kane basked in the blissful silence as the group of men moved mutely towards their destination. He listened intently to the steady steps of Helios’s hooves falling onto the muddy earth, the gentle swishing of his tail, and the casual snorting of the air. Upon arrival, the onset of the sunrise kissed the moorland, triggering the men to extinguish the flames in their lanterns. The greens and purples and yellows and browns finally began to come to life under the sun’s gentle rays. Lord Kane urged his horse to a halt and climbed down from its mount, retrieved his shotgun from the saddlebag, then tied the horse to a nearby post.

It was but a short walk to the destination of clear, open land intended for shooting the grouse. A band of men hired by the Duke of Doah headed for the trees with the hounds to drive out the grouse for the hunters.

As the grouse flew into sight, the commotion began with the sounds of shotguns blaring and hounds barking. Lord Kane grasped his shotgun and readied his aim, momentarily recalling his lessons on how to shoot as a boy. “It is poetry in motion,” his father had said. “It is not merely blasting away. It can, and should be, smooth and graceful.” His father had put the gun against his shoulder, showed him where to place his hands. “Just like a lady, it is all in how you hold her.”

Lord Kane steadied his hand and held his breath as he took aim. But with those last remaining words from his father echoing in his mind, there was only one place his mind allowed him. The image of her burned inside his eyelids. He could not escape her. Frustrated, he set his jaw, finally took aim, then fired.

~~~

“Lord Kane, you left me surprised. You did not shoot a single grouse today,” the Duke said later that evening, pouring Lord Kane a glass of fine whisky.

“Yes,” Lord Emerson began with a snide chuckle, “he seemed rather distracted out there.”

“I have a sickly child at home,” Lord Kane muttered, not giving either man the satisfaction of meeting their eyes.

“A child which is now being cared for by a new doctor living on the estate, so I hear,” added the Duke.

“A _woman_ doctor, word has it,” said the Viscount.

Lord Kane’s eyes narrowed, meeting Viscount Jaha’s. “And how do you know that?”

“Our wives talk,” said Duke Wallace.

“Your help speaks to our help and then our women overhear,” the Viscount said as he downed his final drop of whisky.

“My wife heard that this _doctor_ of yours dresses rather… scantily clad,” Lord Emerson said, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Tell me, how are you not so utterly distracted when you are around her?”

His jaw ached as he gritted his teeth violently, desperately holding back the words that wanted to spew out like venom. He had needed this escape – needed to escape _her_ – yet now all he wanted to do was go back home to Polis Park. What he would never admit to those men was he _was_ utterly distracted by her but it was not due to her dress; he was distracted simply by her aura.

“I would quite like it if we were to discuss something else,” Lord Kane said gruffly. It was his turn to finish off his glass of whisky.

“Oh, please, Kane, lighten up,” Viscount Jaha said. “What good is a woman doctor on the estate, anyway, if not for a good fuck?”

The barbaric and deafening laughter from the lewd men clanged in his ears. He clenched his fists, his knuckles growing white as his fingernails dug into his palms. “ENOUGH!” he boomed, abruptly rising from his chair as it scraped against the floor, nearly toppling over from the force. He licked his lips and steadied his breathing before turning to address the gentlemen. “I am bedward. Goodnight.”

He headed to his temporary room of the hunting lodge, unable to escape the sniggering and judgmental stares quick enough.

“Kane certainly seems like he could use a release,” he heard Duke Wallace say as he slammed the chamber door with finality.

His sleep that night was minimal but dreamless, much to his relief. It seemed as though his distance from the doctor had helped, despite now he was in nearly an equally unbearable situation, having to share the company of the likes of Wallace, Jaha, and Emerson. He could not decide which situation was worse. Two very different positions yet both incredibly intolerable.

~~~

While the others embarked on another day of hunting, Lord Kane stayed back at the lodge, simply stating he was feeling a bit ill. Once the group had went on their way, Lord Kane mounted Helios and headed the opposite direction of the hunters. He needed to clear his head and seek some time alone away from the uncouth lot he had formerly been unbothered to associate himself with.

The wind was tolerable, not quite as fierce as the previous day, so Lord Kane had opted to leave his cap at home. His face was covered in a scratchy shadow from being unshaven for a couple of days. His wavy hair, a dark brown, blew freely in the wind as he prompted the stallion into a steady gallop through the heather-splashed moorland. They climbed a steep hill and from the top, Lord Kane drew Helios to a halt and gazed out over the moor. A meadow from afar glistened under the sun that threatened to peek out from behind the clouds. The heather swayed in the breeze. He closed his eyes and breathed in, taking in the crisp air in his lungs like a drug. His nostrils filled with the unmistakable sweet scent of blooming heather. If he allowed himself, he could nearly be lulled to sleep by the silence that would be broken only by the soft hum of bees or the call of the grouse – the unfortunate and unknowing prey of the hominid beasts who had quickly become the most unbearable company.

Truth be told, they had always been terrible, those men. Simply put, their vexing had never been directed at him before; it was effortless to turn a deaf ear. Lord Kane never appreciated the way they spoke about women whenever they had gathered together and would often try to change the subject, then if he had not succeeded, he would suddenly find an excuse to leave the room lest he lash out in front of the entire party. Yesternight, however, had driven him to his brink. Their crude words riled him deeply and having now being the receiver of such loutish badgering he had decided to wash his hands of the lot of them… for good.

He took one last look out to the far and wide, admiring the pleasant view as closely as an artist would admire his painting. His heart twisted in his chest as he longed for someone to share the view with. Oh how he ached for his daughter to recover so that she could experience life beyond the estate’s walls.

Indebted to the steed which carried him with such care, Lord Kane signaled for Helios to begin their return to the lodge which the stallion then connected to the earth with his strong hooves. The lord sighed with a heavy heart and mind as they journeyed back – hurting for his daughter, missing his wife, and longing for a woman that only existed in his dreams.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Kane returns to Polis Park; Abby has a surprise for Lady Octavia and, in turn, Lord Kane presents to Abby a surprise of his own for her troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a HUGE THANK YOU to Mel for being my awesome beta reader! thanks for taking one for the team here :D

“She is _not_ real,” he had muttered to himself. Realistically, the woman he saw in his dreams was not the same woman that defied him at every turn. What she _was_ , however, was a perpetual thorn in his flesh. He continued to remind himself of that each time his mind attempted to wander – each time he began to envision his dreams becoming a reality. The quiet carriage ride which left him alone with his thoughts was dangerous, for certain.

By noonday he was unloading himself from the carriage and back at Polis Park. What he had thought was going to be a much-needed getaway from the Doctor turned out to be one of the worst hunting trips he had ever taken. (Perhaps _the_ worst trip aside from the time the former Duke of Doah, Dante Wallace, accidentally shot Lord Kane on a fox hunting trip. The bullet just barely grazed his arm, nevertheless, the decrepit duke received an ear-full from Lord Kane. Needless to say, His Grace and his shaky hand were never invited on another hunting trip).

As Russell and Miles gathered the lord’s luggage, Lord Kane headed upstairs with haste to greet his little girl.

“Papa!” she exclaimed, jolting to sit upright in her bed.

“Hello, dearest,” he said to her as he knelt down to kiss her forehead. “How do you fare?”

“Fine, Papa.” Octavia spun a string of doll hair around her index finger. Her doll, Ada, was clutched to her chest.

He took a seat on the edge of her bed and watched as she began to brush her dolly’s hair. “Have you been keeping up with your studies?”

“Yes, of course,” she said with a slight and newfound whistle to her speech, causing Lord Kane to raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded gently with a nod.

Octavia did as she was told by her father and opened her mouth to show off a new gap where a tooth had once been. “I’ve lost a tooth!”

“Another one?” Lord Kane asked with a gasp.

“Yes. Just this morning, actually.”

He smiled softly at his daughter and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You are growing up far too fast, my child.”

“My lady, it’s—”

Lord Kane turned to see Doctor Griffin entering the bedchamber, her face falling at the sight of him.

“Lord Kane… I did not expect for you to be back so soon. Although I was never even aware where you were going in the first place.”

“I have been hunting. Although as you can see I have returned.” His tone was as cold as frost. What he did not want was to allow his barriers to slip, to crumble. He could not have that.

“Yes. Well, I would like a word, Your Grace.”

He contemplated momentarily, then nodded. With one last kiss to his daughter’s head, he retreated to the corridor, closing Octavia’s chamber door on his way out.

He fought the urge to notice how tight Doctor Griffin’s white shirtwaist was against her ample bosom, or how her beautiful, dark eyes twinkled from the flickering candlelight above them, or how the faintest hint of a smile ghosted her features when their eyes met. He had been staring at her, he realized, and for a moment he was left speechless at the sight of her. Allowing himself to even think about her in any other regard than professional was improper. No. He was to only regard her as a doctor, just as he would if she had been an Adam Griffin instead. He cleared his throat and allowed his barriers to reappear, reapplying his cold demeanor. “You wished to speak to me?” he asked.

“I’d like to go to town.”

“Oh.” He was not sure exactly what he was expecting for her to speak of but he found disappointment rising up in his chest. “For what exactly?”

“A book.”

His brows knitted. “Alright…”

“I’ll not dawdle.”

“Of course. I shall arrange for Mr. Shumway to bring the car round.”

She pondered for a moment, seemingly taken aback. No dispute, no mockery; they had just had a simply normal conversation, something of which neither were accustomed to having with the other. He could read it on her face, the utter confusion. Despite that, she said not a word of it. Instead, she merely smiled delicately up at him, her long dark eyelashes fluttering. “Thank you,” she said, and he nearly returned a smile.

~~~

Once Abby had gathered her belongings, she stood outside waiting for the car to come round. She heard it first, the clicking and clacking of the horse’s hooves over the stone pathway, the rolling of the carriage’s wheels, the bouncing of the car as it went over a bump in the path. With her reticule in hand (inside it sat her meager savings), she pushed herself up into the car, then Shumway climbed into his own seat outside, and they set off.

“About how far are we from town?” Abby asked not soon after they had departed.

“Three miles,” Shumway replied.

“And how long will it take us?” Abby pulled out her watch, glancing at the time.

“Forty-five minutes or so.”

Abby said no more and chose to enjoy the ride, watching out of the window as the scenery slowly faded from rolling fields of green to a village common, to which homes scattered about the land. The horse walked the whole way, and she suspected the forty-five minutes would turn into an hour. A small white church entered her view and its bell began to toll just as they passed. Children scurried about, some played chase while others played rolling hoop. A young boy, not so much as shy of five, sat in front of his home playing jacks on his lonesome while his mother scrubbed their linens over a washboard. He drew a dirty hand and waved to Abby and she waved back, beaming at his innocent kindness.

By the time she had arrived at the shop in Stratford-Upon-Arkadia, at least an hour had passed. Shumway was such a slow driver, indeed, and she recalled Calliope warning her of such a thing before she had left. She perused the book shop, fully intending not to linger just as she had promised Lord Kane, but the smell of the books and the feel of the pages held her there for longer than anticipated. Finally, she stumbled upon what she was searching for: a copy of _Old Nurse's Book Of Rhymes, Jingles And Ditties_ – her favorite book as a child. She knew Lady Octavia would love it, too. She grabbed the book and set off to join the queue, second in line from the store clerk. She puffed out her chest, gleeful that she had found the one thing that she wanted.

“That’ll be ten shillings.”

Abby stared blankly at the clerk who looked at her strangely. She was so excited to have found the book for Lady Octavia that she had not even noticed the price. How foolish she felt.

“Ten. Shillings,” the clerk repeated, unamused by her idleness as the line behind her began to grow.

Abby blinked rapidly and then reached into her reticule. “I- I only have eight bob on me…” she whispered, peeking around her in hopes that no one else had heard her.

The clerk pursed his lips and sighed, exasperated. “Fine.”

Abby smiled triumphantly and emptied her reticule, handing over every shilling she had on her person to the clerk. She was pleased that soon the lord would compensate her for her work and her reticule would no longer be empty.

~~~

The ride back to the estate was quiet save for the occasional neighing of the horse, which trotted right along at quite a bit faster pace than their journey to town – much to Abby’s delight. She held the book, soon to be Lady Octavia’s, in her hand, ran a finger over the leather binding. She flipped through the pages until she stumbled upon her favorite jingle, reading over it and singing along in her head. _Polly put the kettle on_ , she sang to herself.

Naturally, when thoughts of Lady Octavia would arise, soon often would thoughts of her father come, too. He had seemed different when she spoke with him in the corridor. Before he had hastily left for his hunting trip (and after she had touched his shoulder – a touch which was only intended to grant respite) he could barely stand to look at her. Now, it was quite the opposite. He had stared at her for so long in the hall that she could feel the blush creep up on her face. Unless her mind was playing tricks on her, she was sure that he was blushing, too. What had gotten into that man? She could not even begin to imagine what had caused such a change but she counted it as a blessing. No snide remarks, no shouting. She had feared that her lapse in judgement the night before he had left to go hunting had ruined their working relationship for good. A hand on his shoulder, then inquiring about where he chose to retire at nightfall and whether she had displaced him seemed to have greatly perturbed him. Nevertheless, his troubles seemed to have fled. _Men_ , she thought to herself with a chuckle. They go outdoors, shoot some guns, and then they return with a much clearer head. Her husband, Jacob, certainly loved his sports, too – fox hunting, especially. He could rattle on and on about their dogs, to which Abby could only nod her head as she tried to keep up with his stories. 

For a long time, she felt nothing but sorrow when she thought of her late husband or daughter. She could recall the feelings of guilt she had the first time she laughed following each of their deaths. She had, funnily enough, felt as though she was betraying them. In her mind, she ought to have trudged along in mourning clothes the rest of her days. At some point in passing, however, she had come to realize that neither Jacob nor Clarke would have wanted that for her; they would have wanted her to find joy in even the smallest things.

This realization had come to her long before she arrived at Polis Park. At one point in her life, she had measured her memories in a “before Jacob’s death” and “after Jacob’s death”, but now, it dawned on her, that the more time spent at Polis Park, the more she began to measure time in a before and after she arrived at Lord Kane’s doorstep, luggage messily piled around her, her bonnet slipping off her head. As she approached a lunar month of having been a resident at Polis Park, her previous life began to feel as though it were only a distant memory.

Following her arrival back at the estate, she rushed upstairs towards Lady Octavia’s chamber, buzzing with excitement to gift the child her new book; however, in her mindless rush, she clashed straight into a looming, solid body with a thud.

“Oof,” said he and Abby glanced up to see it was none other than Lord Kane. Her hand rested awkwardly on his chest and lingered there for just long enough for him to glance down at its placement (and for her to notice his strong chest muscle and rapidly beating heart), to which she pulled away with haste and clumsily stepped back three paces, creating as much distance as she could between them.

They stood in silence for mere seconds though to Abby it felt like hours. Lord Kane’s cheeks flushed red and he cleared his throat. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, Doctor?”

She bit her lip and smiled. “I’m off to see Lady Octavia… I have a gift for her.”

Lord Kane raised his brows in curiosity. “Oh? What is it?”

“Shouldn’t she be the first to know?” Abby asked with a smirk.

“Yes, of course,” Lord Kane said, smiling back at her. He sidestepped and allowed Abby to pass and she quickly entered the child’s chamber.

“Doctor!” Lady Octavia exclaimed excitedly, pushing her book to the side (much to the ire of her governess, Ms. Indra), and now focused intently on Abby and the newspaper-wrapped object she held in her hand. 

“My lady, I’ve a gift for you.” Abby presented the gift to Lady Octavia and she opened it in a frenzy, shreds of newspaper flying over her head.

“A book!” the child shouted with glee. “Thank you, Doctor Abby. I love it!”

Abby sat at the edge of Lady Octavia’s bed and watched as she flipped through the pages. “It was my favorite book as a child. I do hope that it will bring you the same joy and entertainment as it brought me when I was your age.”

“It will,” Octavia said assuredly.

Abby rose and headed for the exit of the room to find Lord Kane leaning against the doorway – his features soft and tender. He smiled at her and looked pleased. Abby closed the door behind them, allowing the quiet to return for Lady Octavia’s studies with her governess. In the corridor stood the two of them, Abby and Lord Kane, a strange, uncomfortable silence between them for several beats, until he finally cleared his throat and began to speak.

“I would like to thank you for your gratuitous kindness towards my daughter. The pure, unadulterated joy she showed in regards to your generosity… Well, I am fortunate that I could bear witness to that.”

Abby could not help herself – she felt her neck flush hot, and she could just envision the pink spreading from her neck, up to her cheeks. His thankfulness was palpable and he peered at her from under his brows as if he were begging her to truly see him as a contented father, not her superior with whom she had clashed from her first hour at the estate. She smiled sheepishly. “Is there a sight more beautiful than a child’s authentic delight? Certainly it is worth it.”

“Yes… Such beauty is rare indeed.” His eyes flicked over her quickly until they settled back on her face and she could not help but feel as though he was surveying her, his gaze unrelenting yet compassionate. Were his words a double entendre? Certainly not, she told herself, immediately shooing the idea from her head. Although his long, fixed stare hinted otherwise, and she grew self-conscious the longer he held his gaze. Her thoughts were interrupted as his voice jolted her back to reality. “Did you purchase anything for yourself whilst you were out?”

“No, Your Grace. Only the book for the lady.”

He chewed at his lip in seemingly deep contemplation. “Hm.”

“It was the least that I could do after inflicting such torture on her,” she continued.

He snickered. “You mean trying to take her on a walk?”

“Yes. Her wailing was quite frightening.”

“It gave me quite a scare, as well.”

The pair remained silent as they recalled the events of the prior week, smiles of fondness on their faces despite the topic. What had begun as an explosive argument had ended in a somewhat tender moment between the two (albeit a tad awkward). Abby certainly preferred their current, friendly climate to the shouting.

“Doctor?” Lord Kane asked.

“Yes?”

“I… would like to show you something. For your troubles of going all the way to town just for Octavia. Especially considering you purchased nothing for yourself.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright—”

Lord Kane grabbed her gently by her arm and leaned in closely, his lips brushing up against her ear, causing her breath to hitch. His stubbled face scratched her ear and goosebumps arose on her arms at the sensation of his warm breath. “Come with me,” he whispered with a smile.

With their arms locked together, he escorted her down the staircase, then led her down a long corridor to which she had never before reached the end of. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“You will see soon enough,” he replied. True to his word, he then pushed open the double doors that sat at the end of the hall and stepped aside, offering her first access inside the room.

What she saw upon entering the room took her breath away: bookshelves that towered to the ceiling, which were at least triple her height; each shelf, filled with books of varying genres, were packed so tightly one could not fit even a piece of note-paper between them. Dickens, Brontë, Carroll, Blake, Austen, Keats. Abby had to remind herself to breathe. She breezed through the room in awestruck wonder, running her fingers ever so lightly over the books under the ludicrous fear that somehow she may cause the bookshelves to come tumbling down or the books to disintegrate beneath her fingertips. Above them hung a massive, sparkling chandelier and paintings larger than her entire frame adorned the walls. Ornate chairs and statues of jade and marble permeated the grand space. In a corner sat a desk where more books were piled alongside a world globe. She directed her head upwards to find a second floor that could only be reached by climbing a ladder which led to a balcony of sorts that overlooked the room. She could not even begin to fathom just how many books were in that library but she knew if she did not have a job to do pertaining to the sickly Lady Octavia, she would not leave that room until there was not a single page left unturned.

“What do you think?” Lord Kane asked from behind her. It was then, for the first time, that she allowed herself to truly notice his handsome features. His chestnut eyes, which had flecks of black and amber, sparkled with subtle pride and his stubbled face was aglow from the light that peered out of the upstairs window. An unruly dark curl rested against his temple and a boyish grin formed over his features at the sight of her amazement – something of which imbued a sense of affection within Abby.

“I…” she began, but her words caught in her throat. After several more stuttered attempts, she finally settled with “It’s marvelous.”

“Well, in that case, it is yours. You are welcome to use it as you see fit.”

“But, my lord—”

He staved off her repudiation with a gentle raise of his hand. “Please. Accept it. Its wing is so far off from the rest of the house, you should not hear a thing. It is a rather peaceful, lovely place to work.”

Abby found herself at a loss for words at his benevolence. “I do not know what to say except thank you.”

“Of course. Feel free to use it at any time if you need a moment of quiet.”

“I simply cannot believe that Russell excluded this wing of the house during my tour.”

“Well, it is not a room that I open for everyone. It is special to me… I hold it close like a well-kept secret.”

“You are a man of great mystery, Lord Kane,” Abby said, astonished, drawing a smile from the lord. “Though I must confess,” she began again, “I had suspected you would be quite angry with me for colliding into you upstairs.”

Lord Kane eyed her strangely and she already regretted mentioning her previous shortcoming. “Why would I be angry? It was merely an accident, yes?”

Abby flushed. “Well, yes. Truly it was. I suppose coming from you I’d have expected a lashing or public shaming,” she said, half-joking, though the joke did not register with him and he narrowed his eyes.

“You think me that cruel, Doctor?” he asked indignantly.

Abby searched for her words, her face certainly as red as hot coals. “Certainly not, Your Grace. It was merely a joke…”

A long moment of silence unfurled amidst them. “I know…” Lord Kane finally said with a smirk and a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Abby sighed, relieved, and began to laugh.

He pondered momentarily, then spoke once more, leaning in closely. “I will warrant a pardon… this time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos make my day! :) I haven't read many Austen/Bronte/etc. works so this style is very new to me. Just felt like trying something different! Sorry for any historical inaccuracies.


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